


Dessert.

by sparsilee



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, M/M, Roommates, Shameless Smut, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 08:04:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8005015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparsilee/pseuds/sparsilee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>me: hmmm so the continental army spent six months stuck in valley forge<br/>my brain: wow some gay things must have happened<br/>me: I was thinking more of a futuristic war AU with a nuclear winter<br/>my brain: nope. sex. and arguing. but mostly sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dessert.

The room is tiny, with only two beds at the sides, so close that if you laid down in one you could touch the other just by stretching your arm, and behind them a wooden shelf, a chair and a table. Sitting on the chair there’s a person; he’s not a man yet, but definitely not a boy anymore. He is wearing a ratty grey shirt and dark underwear, his hair is tied in a bun and a pair of old fashioned glasses rest on his nose. On the table there are several computers and one of them is on, showing line after line of letters and numbers. The screen projects a greenish light that makes the room even more depressing.  
“Alexander, no one expects you to finish that for tomorrow.” Another guy is sitting in one of the beds, dressed just like his friend, but with his unruly hair down. His voice sounds concerned.  
Alexander ignores him and keeps scanning the screen with his eyes. He stops to rub them every few minutes.  
The general has handed the data to him 20 minutes before with an apologetic smile and Laurens sighed so deeply he received a few stares. Now it’s well past one in the morning and Hamilton is typing like he has a deadline approaching. Which he does, in fact, but not until the next day.  
When they first met John Laurens used to complain and threaten him to drag him to bed, but his technique changed slowly in the last months. Now he crouches behind the chair and puts his arms around Hamilton’s neck.  
“Alex,” he whispers in his ear, “come to bed, please.”  
“Gotta finish this first,” he mumbles back.  
“There’s no time. Lafayette will be back by the time you’re done. Come on, you can finish that early tomorrow, the general has other meetings in the morning.” John keeps his voice down and soothing, but at the same time slides his lips up and down his friend’s neck, brushing his cheek and the tip of his nose against the soft skin. And when Alexander stops typing and raises his hands over his head, John knows he has won. Again.  
He grabs the hem of the shirt and pulls it over Alex’s head. It’s been some rough months for all of them, and John can feel it in himself, how his skin hugs his bones in places he used to be softer, rounder. But not Alexander. He had arrived at the camp on the verge of starvation and managed to put on some weight while everyone else lost it. Of course, that’s not saying a lot: Laurens can still count his ribs when he raises his arms and his stomach looks sunken, but not enough to worry him. Things aren’t desperate yet, but they could get to that point too easily.  
John doesn’t let himself get lost in those thoughts; he’s a man with a mission after all. He takes Hamilton by the hands and he stands up. They are of similar weight, with Alexander being slightly shorter although he is supposed to be a few months older than him. Laurens isn’t sure he is saying his real age, but still, he is the tall one and he’s not about to complain. Before he can move Alexander grabs his waist and kisses him, like he usually does, like the world is ending and he only has time to do this one last thing. He sneaks a hand under John’s shirt before he can regain his composure (it always takes him a moment to balance himself when Alex kisses him) and within seconds it is discarded on the chair as well.  
“Get to bed,” his friend commands, and steps back to fold the shirts neatly and leave them on the shabby shelf where they keep their posessions. They only have three changes of clothes; the uniforms given to them when they arrived to camp, their old clothes, not fit for the winter, and the worn-out shirts and underwear they sleep in.  
John uses that time to take air, which feels offensively cold after Alexander’s warm mouth. He is so focused on how Hamilton’s body moves he doesn’t even realize he is finished and coming back to him.  
“Didn’t I just say ‘Get to bed’?” he asks and throws his arms around his neck, pulling John so close that their lips are practically brushing.  
“You are not the boss of me,” Laurens whispers back, closes the space between their mouths and pushes Alexander softly towards the bed until he is sitting, then straddles him, without stopping kissing him for a second. That’s the easiest way to prove how magnetic Hamilton results for him; the moment John has his lips on him, he can’t take them away.  
Hamilton has never been good at waiting, in any situation, and soon enough he is pushing his hips up against Laurens, in a not-so-subtle call for attention, and he can’t contain a moan.  
“I like it when you do that,” Alex whispers, and his lips go from his face to the neck, where he starts working in leaving a hickey.  
“What?”  
“Moan. It’s really hot,” he says. Both of them are sweating, although the room is cold.  
“Screw you,” Laurens doesn’t admit how he tries to supress the noises, but sometimes Alexander is too much for him.  
“Hell, I hope so.” Hamilton laughs and hugs him by the waist, then lays down and rolls over so John is under him.  
His hands trace John’s chest up to his shoulders. Their breathing is ragged by then, and their legs are tangled, and it feels like they are wearing way too many clothes although they are both down to their underwear. Alexander makes him raise his arms above his head and, out of an impulse, bites his upper arm, where the skin is sensitive.  
John makes a small yelp of surprise.  
“Sorry, couldn’t help myself,” he whispers. “You look like dessert.”  
Laurens laughs out loud at that. “Really? What type of dessert?”  
“Caramel custard here,” he sais, licking the same spot in his arm he just bit. “Rice pudding with cinnamon here,” he whispers as he slides down to bite his lower stomach, right under the bellybutton, where the skin is paler but still covered in freckles, and John almost forgets how to breathe. “And sweet as honey, soft as marshmallows, John Laurens here,” he finishes, going back to his face and sucking on his lower lip.  
“Bullshit, I’m not soft,” he manages to say when Alexander is done. “And you are making me hungry.”  
“That’s the opposite of a problem,” Hamilton quips and taps his lips twice with a finger. John is happy to comply, but time flies when you’re having fun and they are still making out when the door opens, startling them both.  
“Fuck, sorry,” says the person who just walked in, although his accent makes it sound more like fuck, soggy. “We weren’t supposed to finish the meeting yet, but it was shorter thana expected. I should have warned you.” Lafayette is standing in the doorway, wearing his uniform, unable to decide if he should stay or run away.  
Hamilton gets off John and motions at Lafayette to get into the room. Which he does, but not without another round of excuses.  
“Laf, it’s okay. I still have to work on these messages anyway.”  
And with that it’s settled. Alexander puts on his shirt and sits in front of the computer, and Laurens is left alone painfully turned on in the cold bed. He catches Lafayette apologetic gaze and shakes his head. It’s not his fault.  
Their friend sighs and starts taking off his boots. He was someone important in the French resistance, before going to America to fight with them, and everyone appreciates his pressence there. His age didn’t make him any less of a charismatic leader and great strategist. Passionate, foulmouthed, and friendlier than he looked, he had immediately clicked with Laurens and Hamilton, and turned down the option of sharing a room with some high-profile lieutenant to room with them instead. In return they took the smallest bed so he could have one for himself and tried not to bother him too much with their late-night work. On the positive side, he didn’t mind walking on them making out, although it was always embarrasing.  
Laurens wraps himself in the blanket and sits down once his heart and breathing are back to normal.  
“You okay?” Lafayette asks as he gets rid of his brown combat boots and dark blue jacket.  
“Fine. How was the meeting?” John says as casually as possible. He even manages a polite smile.  
“Same as always. Lots of complaining and no solutions.” His gaze flickers towards Hamilton. “He is not sleeping again?”  
The walls in the bunker are thick and made of stone, but they are both whispering anyway.  
“I’m not sure. He’s determined to decode that today, so…” John shrugs and rolls his eyes, the universal gesture of ‘who the fuck knows’.  
Lafayette sits next to him. The bed, already wrecked from having two people sleeping on it every day, sinks even further under his weight.  
“How about you two? Are things still… not good?”  
“Bad. The word you are looking for is bad,” Laurens says and Lafayette nudges him sympathetically with his shoulder. “He doesn’t talk to me, doesn’t look at me. It’s like I don’t exist.”  
“That’s not what I saw before.”  
“Okay. He doesn’t notice me unless we’re fucking.” John notices how his friend looks taken aback by his harsh tone. “Sorry. It’s this war. He is working all the time, stressed and…” he gestures, not sure on how to explain Alexander’s fixation with his work, with impressing the general.  
“Obsessed?” Lafayette suggests and shakes his head. “From what I know, that’s not the war, is just Hamilton being Hamilton.”  
“I just think we would be better if he just rested for once. We could talk. Really talk for once.”  
Lafayette moves a bit closer. He is tapping his fingers on the mattress and his hair is still tied, which he hates.  
“Well, I have an idea. It’s terrible, but it might work. Or he might kill me.”  
“At this point I’m willing to try anything, because either he sleeps or I kill him.”  
The nervous finger drumming stops. And slowly, giving him time to decide if he wants to move away, Lafayette leans in and kisses him.  
He is soft, which John hadn’t expected. While Alex kisses like he is hungry, Lafayette does as if he is savoring him. Hamilton can be a great lover, he is ingenious and unpredictable and fun but also impatient and selfish, and sometimes downright rude, and John finds himself wondering how Lafayette would be in bed. He tries to push the thought out of his head. That is not happening.  
The kiss ends way too soon for him and John swears at himself for spending those few seconds freaking out and comparing him to Alex instead of enjoying it. But he wasn’t supposed to be enjoying, right? It is just to make Alexander react. Anyway he finds himself desperate for keeping the feeling of the kiss, how Lafayette’s hands and nose felt cold but his tongue is so warm, and how he buried his fingers in his hair instead of pulling at it like Alex did.  
Lafayette has his face really close to his. He tucks some curls behind John’s ears.  
“He didn’t even notice,” he whispers. Alexander keeps typing.  
“Told you.” John can’t say he is surprised. Lately Hamilton seemed to be ignoring him on purpose. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to kiss me some more.”  
He tries to make it sound like a joke but his gaze is on Lafayette’s mouth and he is already tilting his chin up, and so his friend catches the not-so-subtle hints and presses their lips together again.  
After a bit Alexander stretches his arms and back, glances over his shoulder and rubs his face. Then blinks, quickly, as if to get rid of something that has gotten into his eyes, and rubs them again.  
Because yes, his roommates are kissing, but what’s even worst, they are kissing slowly, tenderly, lovingly. The first thing that crosses Hamilton’s mind is that he wouldn’t mind seeing them making out, just not making out like that; not with Lafayette’s hands cupping John’s face like he is something precious that would break if you aren’t careful. And Alexander is mad, because why the fuck are they doing that, and why is he treating John like a damn china cup. John is the opposite of fragile, but Lafayette must be doing something right, because he is sitting cross-legged on the bed and John has his hands on his ankles, and Alexander can see how he strokes the dark bare skin with his thumbs, and he feels like throwing up.  
“Gilbert,” he says with the most measured voice anyone has ever heard from him, “you’re my friend and I appreciate you but if you don’t take your paws off my boyfriend right this second I will break all your damn fingers.”  
They break apart. Neither of them look ashamed.  
“Not your boyfriend,” Laurens reminds him. His hair is tangled and he has blushed under all his freckles. His eyes are shiny. His lips are shiny. Alexander wants to break his face.  
“Yes my boyfriend.” His voice is defying him to argue. He gets up and takes two strides until he is practically above them. Lafayette hasn’t even paid attention to him, instead he keeps his eyes locked on Laurens. Concerned eyes.  
“If you were my boyfriend shouldn’t you spend more than ten minutes with me everyday?”  
“I’m with you all the time.”  
“You know what I mean,” John is practically hissing. “All you do is work. You’re never here when I need you, you don’t tell me anything-”  
“So you decided to make me jealous with him? What’s your fucking damage?” Alexander says. Against all odds, he is calm, almost cold.  
“I’m gonna give you guys some privacy to figure this out, yes?” Lafayette mumbles and gets up, seeing this is the part of the conversation when he might get punched.  
“No, stay. This is gonna be fast.” Hamilton holds an arm out to keep Lafayette in the room, but doesn’t look at him. He is staring at Laurens, who sits in their bed looking worried. “John, I love you. And if I haven’t been proving it to you like you deserve, I’m sorry. I’ll do better, promise. But if we’re going to be together, I need us to be together.”  
Laurens licks his lips and nods. That wasn’t what he was expecting. He is suddenly too nervous to speak.  
“And I mean openly, officialy together.”  
“I know what you mean. We will be.” John finds the strength to answer. “But you’ll have to show this isn’t all nice words.”  
Hamilton smiles at him and then turns around and glares at their friend.  
“And we have something to settle, you and I” he grabs the front of his t-shirt and Lafayette steps back but doesn’t cover his face. If a punch is the price he has to pay for the reconciliation, he is willing to receive it.  
Instead, Hamilton pulls him closer and kisses him wildly. A gasp from Laurens indicates he didn’t imagine that either. Alexander grins to himself and, without losing contact, he pushes Lafayette until he falls on the bed, where a wide eyed Laurens moves over to give them space.  
Alexander keeps kissing and pushing until he is laying on his back, then pins him down against the mattress and kisses him some more.  
“See, that’s how it’s done,” he brags after biting his lip as a goodbye.  
“Auch,” Lafayette touches his lip. His fingers are stained with blood. “That might be how you do it but I like my way better.”  
“Now we’re even.” Alexander turns to look how John is taking it, and finds him staring with his lips parted and a blush creeping up his neck. When he realizes he is watching, he shakes his head, like he can’t believe what he just witnessed.  
“That was surprinsingly hot.”  
Alex has a grin from ear to ear when he grabs John by the chin so he can kiss him. Lafayette, still lying next to them, clears his throat when he considers the making out has lasted long enough.  
“What, you don’t wanna watch?” Alexander asks and gives John a last peck in the corner of his mouth. He then reaches out wipes Lafayette’s lips with his thumb, smearing the blood still staining them to the corner of his mouth.  
His friend turns his head and catches his finger in his mouth, sucks on it softly, then lets go of it.  
“Hell no. I wanna partake.”


End file.
